Retiring
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: Sam and Dean have a small talk after a hunt.


They were quiet on the road back to the bunker, neither of them really knew what to say at this point anymore.

It was a run of the mill hunt, ghost haunting its old house targeting its new owners, nothing special and easy to take care of. They were buried on the land and all they had to do was dig it up and burn the bones, simple and easy.

Only this time it was different. Or maybe it wasn't, maybe it was something growing that they had tried to ignore for as long as they could that just became evident

Neither of them spoke as Dean prepared them food, wanting something simple just to hold them over. It was late and neither of them wanted anything heavy, or could handle anything heavy anymore, and they just wanted to eat and go to sleep.

Sam got them water to drink, ignoring the beer in the refrigerator. They;ve been cautioned against taking painkillers and mixing it with alcohol anymore, apparently their livers were not able to metabolize it as good anymore or some crap like that so now they were drinking a lot more water and juices after hunts.

And they were taking pain killers a lot more often now too. He didn't say anything but his knees were killing him more and more and he saw Sam trying to hide it but his back was hurting him as well.

Dean remembered their hunt and swallowed down the slightly rising panic, remembering how the ghost had easily threw them around like they were ragdolls, how he himself had needed just an extra second to get to his feet that he hadn't needed before, how Sam had limped to the impala.

They were getting old, there was no hiding that, there was no sugar coating it, there was no way around it. Glancing at his brother he could easily pick out the graying hairs that were starting to sprout more and more in his hair. He procrastinated looking at himself a bit too much, he could see his own hair starting to gray, the wrinkles around his eyes that were starting to spread more along his face.

Despite everything Dean took comfort in it. When he was in his twenties he never thought they were going to reach this day, never thought that they were going to get old. He always thought that he'd go out in a blaze of glory on a hunt and Sam would mourn him and move on with his life, maybe trying to get a normal life once more.

As he got older though those thoughts started to change. He still thought he was never going to get old but it changed from dying in a blaze of glory to dying because of the apocalypse or something similar. He also knew that regardless of how he was going to die Sam was either going to follow him or do everything he could to bring him back.

"Dean, I think it's time." Sam said quietly, pushing his food around with his fork. He hadn't eaten that much and wasn't looking up at his brother. "It's actually past due a bit."

Dean didn't have to ask what Sam was talking about, they both knew that it was a topic that was unavoidable and they needed to discuss.

He tried to think about protesting, tried to think about maybe arguing to continue. A part of him still wanted to die in a blaze of glory on a hunt.

But then he remembered the bone tear panic that overtook him when he thought that Sam was done for, his mind already going to spells and where the nearest crossroads were.

He didn't even know if any demon would be willing to work with him anymore, after Crowley no demon really took up the mantle of king and as a result the demons seemed to stay as far away from them as possible.

"Yeah you're right." Dean said and he could tell from Sams small breath that his brother was surprised that Dean wasn't putting up a fight.

"So it's official then." Sam said simply, reaching out to take his water bottle and hold it to Dean. Dean raised his water bottle as well and lightly tapped it against Sams. "We are, as of now, retired from hunting."

Dean nodded, staring at his brother with a strange feeling in his chest. He gave him a small smile, unable to deny the relief that was spreading throughout his body and based on how Sam's body relaxed as well, he was feeling the same thing.

"We're not leaving hunting completely." Sam pointed out, gesturing to the bunker around them with his fork as he finally ate a full forkful of food. "Guess we'll be the researchers and on phone duty."

"We're picking up what Bobby used to do." Dean said, starting to eat in gusto as well. "I'll man the phones, you do the hard work."

Sam rolled his eyes but he was smiling, the relief taking a few years off of his body and making him look a bit younger despite the gray. "Whatever you say."

Dean smiled at him, leaning back in his seat and letting out a small relieved sigh, already mentally thinking about how much easier their lives were about to become.

It might end up being a bit boring, he'd admit that much, but at the same time, that sense of peace and security that it was going to give them was worth a hell of a lot more.

No more worrying about going on hunts, no more hoping that Sam was going to be okay, no more throat gripping terror at the possibility that this was going to be their last hunt not by their choice.

He smiled and continued to eat, reaching out under the table and wrap his legs around Sams, happy and content in knowing that they were able to choose this and bask in retirement together.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

**283/365**

**I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.**


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